


Sun-kissed Skin & Superfluous Sophistry

by KoraKwidditch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Beach Holidays, Bottom Harry Potter, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, POV Blaise Zabini, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romilda Vane is kinda crazy just sayin', Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Slash, Top Blaise Zabini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch
Summary: Blaise saves Harry from Romilda Vane, though not quite in the way they both expected.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 12
Kudos: 250
Collections: Christmas in July 2020





	Sun-kissed Skin & Superfluous Sophistry

**Author's Note:**

> Hidiho, another fest we go. I know I know, I have a problem--I'm working on it. 
> 
> I actually had a lot of fun with this one, Blaise is such an open character and it was entertaining to give him some more life. Blarry is one of my absolute favorite ships and I was so happy to be able to use them for this. 
> 
> This was written for Melting Pot Fanfiction's Christmas in July! I was super nervous to be the last of the bunch, but I hope this can be a cherry on top to the other wonderful fics this fest had! Seriously go check the rest of them out! 
> 
> My Prompt:  
> Location: Yucatan, Mexico  
> Summer Word Prompt: Sunkissed
> 
> Gigantic shout-out to my alpha/beta team, WordSmithMusings and FaeOrabel. Y'all are my brain when mine doesn't work. Also thank you to FaeOrabel for making the pretty at the top! I made the one at the end :)

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/143851546@N04/50135498648/in/dateposted-public/)

Blaise stretched his arms over his head, sighing as the sun beat down on his already darkened skin. The lounge chair under him shifted as he moved to catch a glimpse of the raven-haired man across the pool. 

Harry Potter sat sprawled in a much-less civilised manner than Blaise, though Blaise had no qualms about that. The man’s sun-kissed skin shone even brighter in the midday sun, clashing wonderfully with his black hair and making his green eyes brighter.

They were both staying at the Moon Palace, a Wizarding resort located on the beaches of Yucatan, Mexico. There were easily hundreds of magical people from all over the world residing here, filling the space between them, and camouflaging Blaise from Harry’s view. 

Unfortunately, Blaise was absolutely positive Harry had no idea he even existed. 

They had both been there for nearly a week, Blaise watching the man enjoy his lone holiday from afar. He was too afraid to speak to Harry, terrified he would hate him. He had stayed neutral through the War, and maybe that was worse than picking a side. Either way, Blaise was too scared to find out. 

Sighing again, he decided he baked enough for one day, so he made his way to the nearby bar. Ordering a blueberry mojito, he sat and sipped his drink while he looked around. He tried not to let his eyes wander back to where Harry was, but he couldn’t help it. 

Unfortunately, the raven-haired man was gone from his lounger, and Blaise tried not to let the disappointment ruin his mood. 

He was on holiday, damn it; he was here to enjoy himself, to forget about his dreary, lonely life back in England. 

Downing the contents of his glass, he ordered another, relishing in the feel of alcohol buzzing through his veins. 

“Fuck, oh fuck, what am I going to do...” Blaise heard the familiar voice of Harry nearby, and he half-turned in his seat to find the man’s sun-kissed back facing him only a few feet away. Harry spun on his heel, emerald eyes finding onyx orbs. 

“Zabini!” He rushed forward. “Thank Merlin; I need your help. Romilda Vane, she’s here—” 

“Harry, there you are!” A shrill voice sounded behind them. “And here I thought you were trying to avoid me.” 

Blaise glanced over Harry’s head to see the figure of Romilda, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. 

“Oh and Zabini, how nice to see you.” Blaise could hear the blatant lie in her tone. “Harry, what floor are you staying on?” 

“Uhh...” Harry stuttered, eyes shifting awkwardly beneath his glasses. 

“Tenth floor with me,” Blaise replied suddenly, surprising both parties, and even himself. He rose from his chair, towering over the pair of them and attempted to put on an air of nonchalance.

“Excuse me?” Romilda asked, sweet demeanour dropping in an instant. “What do you mean, with _you_?” 

“Po-Harry and I are dating. We’re here on holiday together.” Salazar, save him, what the _fuck_ was he doing?

“We are?” Harry asked, and Blaise quickly fixed him with a pointed look. “Oh! Yes, yes, we are.” 

Blaise internally sighed. Merlin, he was beautiful but as oblivious as they came. 

Romilda crossed her arms, a scowl turning her lips downward, and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. For how long?” 

Harry glanced to Blaise, waiting for the man to speak. Great, apparently he was going to be fabricating the story. 

“A few months; my mother owns one of the condos on the top floor. And after meeting Harry, she absolutely insisted we take advantage of it.” Blaise swung an arm around Harry’s waist, pulling the shorter man close to his body. His tanned skin was warm against Blaise, and he tried not to show how much of a reaction it caused. 

Romilda let out a huff of annoyance, glancing between the two of them heatedly. “I still don’t believe you, and I _will_ catch you.” At those words, she spun around, the echo of her heels clicking on the pavement as she disappeared. 

An awkward silence passed between Blaise and Harry as they stood, trying to process what exactly just happened. 

Harry took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry to get you all wrapped up in this, Zabini. Thanks for the help.” 

“Was she always that awful?” Blaise returned to his barstool and drink. 

Harry replaced his frames and rubbed at his neck, arms flexing as they worked a kink out of the muscles. 

Merlin, would it be odd for Blaise to offer to rub that for him?

“Worse. She once tried to slip me a love potion in chocolates. Though Ron got to them first.” Harry chuckled at the memory. “I guess she found out I was staying here and decided to follow me. Suppose I’ll have to cut my vacation short. I was just starting to get tan, too...” 

Blaise’s heart sunk at the thought of Harry leaving; they just began speaking for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t go _now._

Taking a long sip of his drink, desperately in need of liquid courage for what he was about to ask, Blaise sat up straight. “What if I offer to help you?”

“Help me?” 

“She already thinks we’re dating,” Blaise shrugged. “Why not keep up the charade? We’re both here alone, why not enjoy each other’s company for a while?” 

“How’d you know I was here alone?” 

_Fuck._

“Uh..”

“Another drink?” The bartender interrupted, saving Blaise.

“Please.” Blaise quickly replied, sending a quick thanks to whatever deity just saved his sorry arse. 

“I guess I wouldn’t mind that,” Harry said in contemplation. “I really was just starting to enjoy myself… and I _was_ supposed to stay here for another week.” 

“Good,” Blaise stated, taking his new drink from the bartender and swallowing a large sip. Three drinks in, he could finally feel a faint buzz. “I do have one… requirement.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes in obvious suspicion. “What’s that?” 

“Go on a date with me tonight.” 

Harry blinked. “A… date? Like, to dinner?” 

Blaise pinched his lips together to stop a smirk. “Yes, Potter. To dinner.” 

“Erm.. yeah—alright. Sure.” 

“Brilliant. I’m heading back to my room, it’s number 1001. I suggest, to make sure Romilda doesn’t catch us out, have your things sent up there. And don’t worry—” he added, seeing the stricken look on Harry’s face. “There’s two bedrooms.”

On impulse, Blaise reached forward to push a piece of hair from Harry’s face. “When you’re ready, feel free to come up.” 

* * *

Two hours later, Blaise laid atop his bed—stewing in thought. Once he left Harry, he nearly ran to his room, heart beating wildly in his chest. He was such an idiot—why had he touched the man? Harry was obviously repulsed by it; he had pulled back quickly, face turned red with anger—he couldn’t even formulate words to reply! 

Blaise only hoped Harry wouldn’t cancel the date and go home. He was actually looking forward to it.

Sighing, Blaise stood from the bed, walking to the bathroom to get ready. The water cascaded over his naked body, nerves settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about the date tonight. Merlin, when was the last time he had even dated anyone? That fling with Marcus Flint after the War? Salazar, had it really been three years? 

It sounded so pathetic. 

“Blaise?” 

The sound of Harry’s voice from the foyer had him jolting in surprise. Quickly rinsing off, Blaise dried and slung a towel over his waist.

“Harry,” Blaise replied as he exited the bathroom and leant against the doorframe, one hand holding up the towel. Harry stood awkwardly, a trunk sitting next to him on the ground. Much to Blaise’s chagrin, he now donned a white short-sleeved t-shirt, though it did hug his muscles delightfully. 

Harry spun around, “Uh, hey... Are you sure this is okay?” 

“If Romilda is as crazy as you say she is, it’s probably better this way,” Blaise replied with a smirk. “Your room’s this way.” He walked down the hall and stopped in front of the guest bedroom. “I’m next door, let me know if you need anything.” 

Harry nodded and disappeared inside the bedroom, his trunk levitating in behind him. Blaise frowned, retreating to his own. 

Fuck, Harry was obviously extremely uncomfortable being here. Well, Blaise would just have to make sure he got comfortable, hoping dinner tonight would help. 

Blaise dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a dark green, short-sleeved button-down, trying not to preen too much over his appearance. Walking to the living room, he sat in one of the rattan chairs and conjured a book, though he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again. 

He wasn’t nervous. Zabini’s don’t get nervous; they were the epitome of sophistication and class. So then why did he feel a slight fluttering in his stomach as he waited for Harry? 

“I’m ready.” 

Blaise looked up to find Harry, dressed in another white t-shirt and a pair of dark blue boardshorts, rolled up to mid-thigh that had Blaise adjusting to hide his evident desire. 

Clearing his throat, Blaise tried to look nonchalant. “Great. Are you alright to Apparate?” 

Harry nodded, and Blaise stood, offering his hand to the raven-haired man. When they touched, it sent a wave of heat down Blaise’s spine, and once they appeared in front of the restaurant, Blaise twined their fingers together. 

Harry gave him an odd look from the corner of his eye that had Blaise doubting the action, though he still kept a firm hold of the Gryffindor’s hand. Even if it was all pretend, he would allow himself to enjoy the small moment. 

“In case Romilda is here,” Blaise explained, leading them inside the building. It was a quaint seafood establishment that served the finest dishes galleons could buy. Blaise always made sure to pay multiple visits when he was here on holiday. 

They entered the restaurant, and with their hands still clasped together, Blaise requested a private table. 

The hostess led them to a secluded spot in the back, decorated in a very stylish cross between a classic Mexican scheme and ocean furnishings. 

Harry opened the menu, blanching when he discovered the entire thing was in Spanish. “Erm... Zabini—I don’t... This is all in Spanish.” 

“Would you allow me to order for you?” 

Their gazes snapped together, and Blaise felt a thrill go through him as Harry’s emerald eyes watched him. 

“Sure, I’m not picky.” 

The waiter arrived a moment later, and Blaise ordered them both large margaritas and ahi tuna ceviche, all in perfect Spanish. 

“Where did you learn Spanish?” Harry asked once the waiter left. 

“My mother made sure I had plenty of tutors from around the globe before Hogwarts, during school, and over summers. I’m fluent in Spanish, Italian, French, German, and a little Mandarin.” 

Harry sat wide-eyed as he regarded Blaise, and Blaise felt himself puff up a bit at his boasting. 

They fell into easy conversation, reminiscing of their Hogwarts days and various Professors. Blaise even found himself chuckling as Harry told him the story of Ron receiving his dress robes for the Yule Ball, the waiter bringing their drinks and food somewhere in between. Blaise ordered their dinner, and just as Harry was about to start another story, a familiar harsh voice sounded behind them. 

“Oh, a date! I don’t buy it.” Romilda said, stomping up to their table. “You two have got to be the most awkward couple. You’re not even sitting next to each other!” 

Blaise hadn’t considered that would seem odd, but he supposed the fact they were in a rounded booth and sat on opposite sides of it, probably did look off. Should they be cuddling?

Romilda snorted. “This is the worst date I’ve ever seen. I know you’re lying, Harry. I bet you two barely even know each other!” 

Blaise could see Harry shift nervously and decided he’d have to do something to convince the annoying bint to leave them alone. 

With a deep inhale, Blaise steeled himself, glared at the girl, and looked to Harry. 

Grabbing Harry’s hand, he scooted over next to him and cupped his face, planting a firm kiss to the man’s lips. He could feel Harry stiffen before he sighed and kissed him back. A small tremor of want shot through Blaise at the feel of Harry’s mouth forming to his, and he traced his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip just to see how far he could go. 

He tried to tell himself this was just for show, but damn it all, he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in his trousers as Harry’s tongue met his. 

The sound of a throat being cleared had them both pulling away. Blaise stared delightedly at Harry’s shining lips and heavily lidded eyes, completely ignoring Romilda. 

“Shove off, Romilda,” Harry said, reaching out a slightly shaking hand to hold his margarita. “You’re ruining our date.” 

With an indignant screech, Romilda fled the restaurant, jostling a few other patrons on the way out. 

Blaise and Harry kept eye-contact through it all, a smirk pulling at Blaise’s lips. “How about we get our food to go?” 

“I’d say,” Harry swallowed. “That sounds like a brilliant idea.” 

Blaise wasted no time in having their food wrapped, exiting as quickly as possible. They Apparated back to the condo, and once the familiar sight of the living room greeted them, Blaise pulled Harry back in for another kiss. 

Blaise backed them up to the wall as Harry wrapped his arms around his neck. He caged the Gryffindor between the wall and his body, placing his arms on either side of Harry’s head.

Their kiss turned zealous, teeth clacking together lightly as their tongues explored. 

Harry started to work open the button’s of Blaise’s shirt with shaking hands, and Blaise allowed him, holding Harry’s jaw tightly to tilt his head back. Harry moaned into his mouth at the rough action, and Blaise’s heart sped at the sound. This was everything he wanted, and he wouldn’t question it; even if he only ever got this one shag with Harry, it would be enough to tide him over for a lifetime. 

Finally coming to the last button, Harry’s hands disappeared to touch Blaise, sending goosebumps across his dark skin. 

Blaise pulled from the kiss, panting slightly. “My room?” 

Harry nodded, and Blaise pressed a swift kiss to his pink lips before grabbing his hand to lead him down the hall. Erection pressed painfully against his shorts, he unbuttoned them to relieve some of the pressure once they were past the threshold of his bedroom.

He could spy Harry glance at the bulge from where he stood, and Blaise did the same. Sitting atop his bed, Blaise patted the spot next to him for Harry to join. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to come over here and snog me?” Blaise smirked at the pretty blush that covered Harry’s cheeks, and he quickly came to sit next to Blaise. 

Pulling him back into a kiss, they both moaned as Harry moved to sit on his lap, Blaise’s covered erection pressing against Harry’s bum. 

With sure hands, Blaise quickly undid the clasp of Harry’s trousers while the Gryffindor removed his shirt, revealing his beautifully sun-kissed torso. Blaise leant forward to capture a pert nipple between his teeth while his hand disappeared inside Harry’s pants, gripping the man’s cock. 

Harry moaned low in his throat as Blaise began to work him, bucking up to grind his own cock for some much-needed friction. 

“Blaise, please. Just fuck me—now.” Harry moaned, clutching Blaise’s shoulders tightly. 

Those few words were all Blaise needed to hear, and with a mumbled spell, their clothes vanished. Harry let out a light, startled chuckle that soon turned into a gasp as Blaise’s considerable length brushed against his entrance. 

“Ready?” Blaise asked, not even bothering to prep the man. Harry wanted to fuck, and who was Blaise to deny him?

“Yes.” Harry moaned as Blaise gripped his hips and pressed the tip of his cock inside Harry, mumbling a lubrication charm. He slid in slowly, allowing Harry to adjust to his large size.

Harry took over control, his position on Blaise’s lap allowing him to regulate the speed. Once fully seated on Blaise’s cock, they both moaned, and Blaise bucked his hips subconsciously in an attempt to get even farther. 

Harry began a slow pace, and Blaise groaned in frustration. 

“Harry—if you don’t go faster, I will flip us around and pound you into the bed,” Blaise commanded, tangling raven locks between his fingers and pulling slightly. He leant down and sucked on a spot over Harry’s collarbone, eliciting a sharp gasp from the Gryffindor. 

Harry began to increase his speed—and Salazar—Blaise could already feel his balls tighten with the want of release. Reaching a hand to grasp Harry’s cock, Blaise began to pump him.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned, his pace faltering. 

Blaise couldn’t take it anymore. 

Quickly flipping them around, he began to set an unyielding rhythm, bucking into Harry’s arse so hard the sounds of slapping flesh filled his ears. Blaise watched in desire-fueled fascination as the Gryffindor reached down to stroke himself, and with a few deep thrusts, Harry arched his back and cried out, coming all over himself.

Blaise pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, and after a handful of sharp thrusts, he pulled out, giving quick, jerky tugs to his cock to come over the same places Harry did.

Dropping next to Harry, Blaise tried to catch his breath. 

“Well,” Harry started. “I suppose Romilda will tell quite a few people we’re together.” 

Blaise looked over at Harry with a quirked brow, and the emerald orbs gazed at him with hope.

“I don’t see any reason to deny it, do you?” 

Harry blinked as he tried to process his words, and finally understanding, gave Blaise a wide grin. “No, I don’t either.” 

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/143851546@N04/50136278627/in/dateposted-public/)


End file.
